


The Strength of Salvation

by 8ounce



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/F, lesbian mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ounce/pseuds/8ounce
Summary: Basically this is me riffing off of Sten's lesbian mythology thing with Medusa and Tiresias.





	The Strength of Salvation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sten06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sten06/gifts).



_ “Promise me, my dear child, that you will not stray into the realm of the Gorgons. They are dangerous, and will not hesitate to use their powers against you. Promise me.” _

Her mother’s words drifted, like smoke, to the front of her mind as the television flickered in the darkness of her dorm, and Tiresias leaned back, sighing, on her couch. As of late, the police had been warning the public about the Gorgons again; a danger that had never really ceased to exist since she was a child. It seemed every year the same things would happen; the new students that arrived at Gotham would ignore the warnings and another stupid frat boy would end up injured, or worse, dead. Tiresias let out soft sound of frustration as reached for the remote to turn off the television.

“It’s the same every year, huh?” Her roommate, Barbara, shuffled around the living room in a pair of very fluffy socks before taking a seat on the couch beside her, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. “You’d think they’d be smart enough to take it seriously after it was in the Daily Planet _and_ the National City Post.” Tiresias sighed wordlessly, gesturing to the TV.

“They’re idiots. I bet the GCPD wastes _way_ too many of their resources tracking dead frat boys the beginning of every first term.” Tiresias grumbled, reaching over to pluck the tea from the redhead’s hands, before taking a sip.

“Okay. Rude. Could have asked.” Barbara grinned, before snatching it back. “Yeah, my dad’s always _so_ cranky and stuff this time of the year.”

“Can you blame him, though? I’d be pissed too, if I had all of my Commissioner-y things to do and some dumbass kid went and got – literally – stoned.” Tiresias shrugged, tiredly running her fingers through her own strawberry blonde locks, before tucking her feet neatly under her. “Also, what is up with boys and the word ‘no’?” She heard a quiet chuckle beside her, and she turned to face her best friend, eyebrow raised in challenge. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about this, T. If they didn’t have such a hard-on for the hot sisters, this wouldn’t be a problem, yada-yada.” Babs grinned slyly, pausing before continuing. “You wouldn’t hit that though?” Tiresias rolled her eyes and reached over to smack her roommate’s arm. “Ow! No seriously though. Why don’t we ever see horny ladies being turned to stone on the news?” Tiresias’ head was tilted as she seriously thought about the subject.

“Maybe girls are just _smarter?_ ” The pale strawberry blonde shrugged with a sheepish grin.

“I’m curious, though. Let’s unpack this.”

“That’s your psychoanalysis voice. Look, just because your criminal psychology degree is all-consuming in your life doesn’t mean it has to consume mine too!” Tiresias laughed, shoving at Barbara. “And I don’t wanna ‘unpack’ anything, because that just means you asking me if I think the Gorgons are hot.”

“Well, _do_ you?” Tiresias rolled her eyes as she heard Barbara lean forward expectantly.

“I haven’t met one. But maybe you’re right.” Barbara laughed good-naturedly as Tiresias smirked at her. “Maybe I’ll fall into the same trap that all the poor boys have fallen into and find myself madly in love with Medusa.”

“Well you _have_ had dreams about them in the past.” Barbara wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

“Not _those_ kinds of dreams!” Tiresias groaned, putting her face in her hands.

“Yeah but still...” Barbara trailed off with a lilt in her voice, teasing even as Tiresias shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re blind, so you still have a pretty good chance with the Gorgons. A better chance than the rest of us mere mortals.” The redhead giggled, yelping as Tiresias reached over to smack her arm again.

“You’re ridiculous. I’m going to bed.”

The next couple of months were hell for Barbara _and_ Tiresias. Between classes, papers, and TA-ing, Tiresias was exhausted, collapsing into bed as soon as she got home, her nights filled with a terrible, vivid recurring dream of gods and temples. She often woke up screaming, drenched in cold sweat and with the image of an enraged Athena etched, stark, in her mind. She had barely talked to Barbara during the first couple of months of their term, knowing that the redhead spent some of her nights roaring through Gotham on her bike as Batgirl, responding to some of the supernatural crimes that the Gotham City Police Department wasn’t equipped to handle. Though she knew this, the loneliness lingered. _It’s not like you enjoy going to clubs or parties anyway_. She found herself frequenting the Giordano Botanical Gardens when Barbara wasn’t home; the emptiness in the dorm was stifling, especially without the familiar sound of Barbara shuffling around or the music the redhead liked to play while she was studying. Besides, making her way through the multitude of scents from the wide variety of flowers and plants calmed her, and most of the people who were at the botanical gardens were either old, or botany students, and they definitely contributed to the quiet atmosphere in the gardens. So, she’s understandably annoyed one evening when she’s interrupted in her quiet meditation by the sound of agitated and angry voices.

“Ivy, there’s no time! He said to bring you with me whether or not you like it.” The low baritone of the voice is coloured with a deep growl, and Tiresias frowns, suspicious.

“First of all, you’ll call me _Dr. Isley._ ” A woman hisses, and Tiresias recognizes her voice as one of the botanists who works at the gardens. “Secondly, please send a message to your employer regarding the idiots he’s been hiring, and tell them I don’t want to work with you anymore. Thirdly, the antidote is currently being distilled, and has been since your employer asked for it, which you would know if you weren’t such an _idiot_.”

“How long?” The man snaps, sounding impatient, and more than a little irked at the botanist’s rudeness. Tiresias shifts uncomfortably on the stone bench she was occupying, before getting up to leave, not wanting to eavesdrop on their heated conversation any longer. Clearly she wasn’t quiet enough, though, as she hears the sound of heavy footsteps following her. Panicking, she walks faster, fear pumping through her body in time with her pulse. Taking a random left, she continues walking until she feels the hard concrete shift to the crunch of tiny pebbles under her feet, and the smells around her change. The crisp scent of evergreens and moss overtake the smells of the city, the harsh scent of gasoline and urine is what she’s used to, having lived in Gotham for so long. She stops walking to reach around her, and her outstretched hand brushes against the rough trunk of a tree. _Shit._ _Where the hell am I?_ Fear of her pursuer pushes her to make as little sound as possible, and she leans her back against the tree, trying to sense any movement around her. Tiresias startles as the snap of twigs sounds not far from her right, and she holds her breath, trying her best not to alert anyone of her presence. She feels herself trembling with adrenaline and fear as she messily pushes her hair out of her face, slowly inching away from the footfalls that were getting closer. Her breathing is quick and shallow, and she tries to put as much distance between her and the attacker, when her foot catches and she falls, landing on her stomach, the breath knocked out of her. Gasping, she scrambles as quickly as she can in the opposite direction of her attacker.

“Please…please don’t hurt me.” Her voice is hoarse and cracks with fear as she senses someone standing over her. “I didn’t mean to overhear you, _please_ , I’m just a student at GCU.” She curses as she feels tears start to roll down her face. “I don’t want to die. _Please,_ I’ll do anything…” Tiresias lets out a short yelp as a pair of warm hands settle on her forearms, the strawberry blonde whimpers.

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, and I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m not going to hurt you.” A throaty voice speaks and Tiresias stiffens. This was not the voice of the man from the botanical gardens. Tsking, the woman helps Tiresias to her feet, carefully brushing pine needles and dirt off the student’s clothes.

“You’re…not…” Tiresias trembles.

“No, I’m not. Shh…you’re okay. I don’t know who’s after you, but you’re safe now.” The mysterious woman’s voice is low, husky and sensuous. A thumb is tracing soothing patterns on the back of Tiresias’ hand and she is very confused.

“I’m sorry, I’m very very grateful, but w-who…who exactly are you?”

“Who…wait do you really not know who I am?” The woman sounds stunned, and as she pulls her hands away, Tiresias feels an odd sense of bereavement. She hears a rustling, before the woman makes a soft sound of understanding. “You’re blind.” Warm, soft hands find hers again, but this time they guide hers up to the woman’s face. Tiresias furrows her brow as her fingers roam lightly over the strange woman’s face, and she moves closer, slowly smoothing a thumb over soft, warm lips. She jumps slightly as she hears a chorus of quiet hisses, but keeps her hands on the woman’s face.

“You’re…Medusa.” The strawberry blonde whispers, unable to keep the wonder out of her voice as the woman lets out a chuckle.

“I am. And you’re…freezing, darling. Come with me.” Tiresias feels a thrill shoot through her body as the term of endearment rolls off Medusa’s tongue, before a warm hand slips into hers and the Gorgon leads her forward. A door squeaks quietly, and all of the sudden Tiresias smells firewood and hears it crackling quietly. She’s led to sit down, a soft blanket is wrapped around her shoulders, and she feels Medusa tug off her boots. “There. You’ll be warmer in here.” Tiresias shivers, before wrapping the blanket more securely around herself, as she hears the strange, soothing sound of Medusa tinkering in the kitchen.

“So.” The voice floats closer and Tiresias feels the dip of the couch beside her. “You’re certainly not what I was expecting tonight.” The throaty, suggestive voice sends a lightning bolt of giddiness through her body, and the strawberry blonde giggles nervously. There’s a short silence, before a warm hand settles on her knee and Tiresias jumps. “Do I make you nervous?” The warmth suddenly disappears as Medusa pulls her hand away. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.” She sighs quietly. “I’m very sorry, you must be absolutely  _ terrified _ . How are you supposed to trust me? Especially with my terrible reputation–”

“—hey.” Tiresias interrupts, reaching out her hand to rest on Medusa’s thigh. “You do make me nervous. But…not in a bad…way?” She shrugs sheepishly, before an adorable blush colours her pale skin, and Medusa can’t help but _stare_ because, who is this girl? And how is she so...

“Lovely.” The Gorgon breathes, so quiet that Tiresias almost misses it.

“Sorry…didn’t quite catch that…”

“It’s nothing. I was just…you’re…”           

“Do _I_ make _you_ nervous?” Tiresias lets out a delighted laugh, the sound filling the space around her. “But I’m just a dumb _human!_ ” And damned if Medusa can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face at the musical sound. She reaches behind her to rub her hand sheepishly on the back of her neck.

“Well. People don’t usually sit down and have conversations with me.” The voice is low, and Tiresias feels her heart ache at the sadness she hears in those words.

“I’m sorry.” She offers, reaching over to grab Medusa’s hand. “My roommate and I were just talking yesterday about how annoying it must be for you. What with all the idiots that come wandering…well, I suppose I’m one of them now.” Tiresias lets out a self-deprecating laugh.

“It’s true that generally, people don’t come wandering through with the best intentions. To be honest very few people do. You are the first in a very long time.” Medusa shrugs, and distantly Tiresias can hear a kettle whistling. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” She hears Medusa set something down on a surface next to her, and the Gorgon gently takes her hand, guiding it towards –

“—tea! Thank you.” Tiresias grins and takes the mug in both hands, letting out a quiet sound of contentment at the warmth. The couch dips again. “So, you were saying something about people wandering in?” Medusa lets out a soft huff of frustration, rubbing at her forehead gently.

“Yes, well. Generally people don’t come through with the intention of having a nice chat with me over a glass of wine.” She lets out a short, empty-sounding laugh. Tiresias’ brow furrows, and she pauses, wondering if she’s overstepping, before speaking.

“To be honest, you’re…not at all what they say.” The strawberry blonde reaches up to push her hair haphazardly away from her face. There’s a short silence as Medusa ponders this statement, taking a sip of tea.

“They?”

“Well.” Tiresias shrugs uncomfortably. “The…press, the general public…” Medusa lets out a quiet hum of understanding, and Tiresias frowns, setting down her tea. “Not that I expected you to be…anything…but—”

“—It’s alright. I’ve made my peace with it.” Medusa smiles serenely, before staring back down into her tea. “Wearing a blindfold has made the public more…at ease.” She shrugs, and Tiresias frowns, before reaching out to take her hand, wanting to offer some kind of comfort.

“But if you wear a blindfold, then how do these idiots keep getting turned to – oh.” Anger at the injustice suddenly sparks. “They’ve been trespassing on your property.” Medusa shrugs, giving the hand in hers a gentle squeeze.

“It’s all part of the curse, darling. I’ve learned to live with it.” Once again, Tiresias thrills at the term of endearment, and the husk of Medusa’s voice does nothing to help with the buzz that she feels in her body.

“I’m sorry, but that all seems ridiculously unfair!” And Medusa can’t quite stop the shy smile that slips onto her face at the indignation written all over this girl’s face. “And they break into your house?”

“Well, no.” Medusa’s teeth worry at her bottom lip, and all of the sudden the Gorgon feels very vulnerable. “I don’t know.”

“Wait, what do you mean, you don’t know?” Tiresias’s brow is crinkled in confusion.

“I suppose…” Medusa starts, before letting her voice trail off. The hurt over the years hasn’t lessened, and Medusa finds herself reluctant to divulge exactly why she’s living in a tiny cabin on the very outskirts of Gotham. “I suppose I’m an enigma, of sorts.” She laughs drily. “People come from all over to—”

“—hunt you.” Tiresias breathed, inching across the couch. She reaches across to take both of Medusa’s hands in her own. “Oh. I’m so sorry…” Medusa chuckles lowly and Tiresias’ heart skips a beat at the sound.

“Darling, what are you apologizing for? There’s no need!”

“If it makes you feel any better, Hera wasn’t very happy with me either, and that’s why I’m blind.” Tiresias shrugs as she offers up something, anything about herself. Medusa sighs, reaching out to smooth her thumb gently over Tiresias’ cheek. She jumps, and Medusa lets go of her as if she were burned.

“Forgive me, it’s just…I had no right.” Medusa murmurs, colour rushing into her cheeks. “I should have – there’s no excuse for v-violating…” Her words trail off as Tiresias pulls her hand back to her face.

“It wasn’t unwelcome.” The words echo, heavy in the room around them and Tiresias blushes at how suggestive her own voice sounds.

“I…I have no idea who you are…” Medusa’s voice is as gentle as the hand resting against her cheek, and Tiresias clears her throat quietly.

“Of c-course. Wow. I should have led with that, huh?” The strawberry blonde shifts uncomfortably, and Medusa lets her hand drop. “Sorry. First I intrude on your property, then your home…” Tiresias lets out a nervous little laugh, rubbing her palms on her thighs, distressed.

“No…I just…” _I’m a monster and you’re…so ridiculously attractive._ “You’re…you.” Is what Medusa ends up saying, and she cringes at how trite and stupid it sounds.

“And…you’re…you.” Tiresias’ laugh dances across her skin and Medusa is struck again by how _unfairly_ attractive this girl is. _Why do you torture me, Athena?_ “I’m not sure what that means.” Another laugh, and Medusa is fascinated by the way it dances in her striking green eyes. “But…uh, should I start? My first name is Tiresias. Usually people call me T, or Tess. My roommate calls me T. I’m a grad student at GCU…” Her voice trails off awkwardly and she shrugs, folding her hands in her lap. “My parents died when I was a kid.” She heard Medusa let out a soft, sad sigh. “Yeah, my dad hoped that giving me to Hera as a priest and a prophet would spare them, but...sometimes things just don’t work out, I guess.” Medusa hummed quietly, albeit a little bitterly.

“A priest? Don’t you mean a priestess? And how did Hera take a woman being a prophet in her temple?” Medusa’s brow crinkled with confusion as she wound a stray snake absentmindedly around her finger. 

“Oh. I…” Tiresias took a calming breath. “I wasn’t born...female.” An angry hiss came from beside her, and the redhead sprang backwards. 

“No, no. Don’t be frightened, love.” Medusa reached out to gently take a pale hand in hers. “They’re not angry with you.” Reaching up, the Gorgon smoothed locks of hair gently away from Tiresias’ face. “See?” Medusa guided her hand up to tangle in the nest of snakes, and Tiresias grinned as the snakes tangled around her fingers, their tongues flickering and dancing across her skin. 

“Do they...why are they mad?”  Tiresias mumbled, shuffling closer to gently run her hands along Medusa’s scalp. The Gorgon’s eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into the touch. 

“They feel whatever I feel.” Medusa murmured, leaning forward to rest her forehead against Tiresias’ shoulder. “That feels very nice.” She mumbled, shuffling closer to Tiresias. 

“Are you...mad?” The redhead frowned. Medusa let out a quiet little sigh of contentment, and Tiresias shuddered as the Gorgon buried her face into the warmth of the redhead’s neck. 

“Just seems like your entire life has been so unfair cause Hera was being a little bitch, that’s all…” Medusa leaned up to press her lips gently to the other woman’s cheek, before dropping her head back onto Tiresias’ shoulder. The redhead chuckled quietly, stroking a thumb gently along Medusa’s jaw. 

“That’s what I thought at first, too.” The redhead murmured, before tilting the Gorgon’s chin up. “Come here.” And all at once Medusa’s lips were against hers, warm and soft, and before long the redhead found herself being tugged insistently into Medusa’s lap. Tiresias hummed as Medusa’s lips moved gently along the line of her jaw, and a quiet gasp echoed in the cabin as Medusa’s teeth tugged at her earlobe. 

“Is this...okay?” The Gorgon’s voice was low against her ear, and Tiresias could only nod furiously as lips descended to find her pulse, sucking gently. A quiet moan slipped from between her lips, and Medusa hummed her approval at the soft sound. A hand toyed with the hem of Tiresias’ t-shirt as Medusa’s lips found her collarbone and suddenly the redhead wanted nothing more than to be  _ devoured _ by the woman that was holding her. She reached down to tug Medusa’s face back up to hers as she teased her tongue along the seam of Medusa’s lips, grinning as the Gorgon gasped, then moaned quietly as pale hands stroked along the bare skin of her lower back. 

“How about this? Is this okay?” Tiresias husked as her palm gently found the curve of a breast, kneading gently as Medusa’s head tilted back to rest against the couch, a soft noise breaking past her lips as Tiresias teased. 

“Take...it off.” The Gorgon panted as Tiresias’ fingers teased at her nipples through the material of her bra, and the redhead leaned forward, pressing her lips to the other woman’s cheek. 

“Maybe you should take me to bed, first.” 

 


End file.
